Into the Department of Mysteries
by claraowl
Summary: Ron found himself in a place at once familiar and alien, chasing someone well-known to him. Afterwards, what surprise will Hermione spring on him...? Romione oneshot


**Claraowl: I do not own **_**Harry Potter, **_**nor do I own anything associated with it. ^^ Enjoy!**

_It's been an ordinary day, in an ordinary week, in an ordinary life… or, at least, as ordinary as my life seems to get,_ Ron mused, collapsing upon the bed. Raising his eyes to the ceiling, he leaned back against the pillows, his musings turning to thoughts of places and events not-all-that-long past. Closing his eyes, he saw the picture show begin, manipulating what he knew into something altogether unfamiliar….

It was not that he did not recognize where he now was, no; it was not that he did not recognize the person in front of him, no - his confusion stemmed from a different source entirely. His confusion was of the species _why_; he wondered why they were here again, why no one else was around, why she had taken off running moments earlier - and why, _why _he found himself not wanting her out of his sight. The blooms of confusion swirled and bobbed around him as he dashed after her, catching the door just as it was about to close; he heard the rotation begin in the room he'd left as the door swung shut behind him.

She was standing there before him, laughter lighting up her face. She was dancing backwards as he crept towards her; one step from him equaled two from her. Something was glowing behind her, growing closer as she slipped backwards; he lunged towards her, trying to pull her away from it, and she slipped into the opening. He gulped, recognizing the bell jar. It had been made enormous, somehow large enough for a person to fit inside; terror flitted across his features as she began changing, moving backwards in time, growing younger.…

She was rapidly losing her years; within moments, she was back to the age when he had first known her as herself; only instants later, she was as when he had first met her, before he had known her; then she was a toddler, staring around with wide eyes; a baby, her long hair reduced to a few strands. Then she was growing again, back to herself; her hair shooting out of her head as she grew taller, her silhouette filling out. His mouth dropped open as she moved past her current age, growing older - a woman, cradling her arms as if holding someone; she was then older, her hair turning silver and her face heavily lined. He watched with horror as her skin grew paler, her hair thinner; and then, just as he feared the worst, the process reversed itself - she grew younger again, walking towards the opening of the bell jar. She slipped out, back to normal and dancing just out of his reach once more. Breathing a sigh of relief, he pursued her again, passing the ever-shattering-and-repairing time turners and running to the next place.

She came to a stop next to an all-too-familiar tank, filled with organs that had left him scarred. He called out to her, warning her not to touch them. Flashing him a smile, she conjured a small glass and dipped it into the liquid suspending the brains. He froze in place as she toasted him and downed the liquid in one gulp. The glass hit the floor and shattered as her head tilted backwards for one terrible moment. Regaining control of his body, Ron was able to take a few steps towards her before freezing again. The potion was taking effect.

Tentacles of thought were emitting from her head, breaking free, and spinning into the air around him. Numbers, figures, pictures, words, and strains of music swirled around him like a whirlwind of chaos. He could not move; her thoughts were binding him, pinning him in place. She stood there, unmoving, as the contents of her mind came to life. He gulped, trying to reach towards her, trying to break the bonds. Suddenly, she collapsed, all thought having finally evacuated her mind. He, choking, waved his arms weakly, signaling for the tentacles and whirlwind to return to her. Miraculously, they obeyed, slinking away from him; as they did so, he caught glimpses of the images. They swirled, pulsing from color to color to black and white, to silver and gold, to something indescribable. He gulped, straining to see what these images were before they vanished; yet, instants before he could truly make out what they were, they reentered her mind. He crept over to her as she slowly opened her eyes.

She took his outstretched hand and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. A taunting smile appeared about her lips, daring him. Then, never releasing his hand, she took off again, dashing through another door. He nearly tripped over the doorframe as she pulled him into a familiar dark room, illuminated only by the solar system. Placing a finger on his lips when he opened his mouth to ask what was going on, she led him silently towards where Venus was slowly rotating on its axis. He felt her raising their intertwined fingers to touch the planet; the next moment, he felt his feet lift off the floor and his eyelids snap shut. His other senses explored the situation for a few moments; gravity seemed to have lost all hold upon him.

He forced his eyes open; the two of them were standing in the middle of space. She was gazing around at the stars, moving effortlessly, as if she were walking through a haze of water. The world was below them, tiny under their feet. A smile flickered across his face; was this what they meant by 'on top of the world'? He glanced at her, only to find him staring at him; he leaned towards her, only to have her lean away. The spell broke, sending them crashing to the floor of the planet room. He shook his head, trying to realign his thoughts. She was already on her feet, pulling him after her through yet another door.

He blinked, momentarily dazzled by the glittering lights coming from the prophecies. She gave a small, tinkling laugh as a misty figure floated over their heads, its beard jiggling as it followed them down the rows. She seemed to know where to go; she swerved through the rows, curving around shelves and laughing aloud when the bearded prophet squawked indignantly when he realized they were not listening to him. She smiled, pulling Ron around another corner and into a shelf. The orbs crashed to the ground around them; the misty figures rose from them, yelling to make themselves heard over the ruckus. She placed a finger on her lips, tugged gently on his hand, and slipped back into the circular room of doors, not closing the one they had just exited.

Walking straight across the room, she tried the handle of the door and beamed when it did not give. She turned to him and pressed her back against the wood, calling him nearer to her. Her unoccupied hand slipped up to the back of his neck, coaxing him even closer. He swallowed as her face inched closer to his. Instants before their lips touched, the door supporting her melted into nothingness.

The two of them tumbled backwards, rolling down a steep incline. Darkness swirled around them, broken only by the streaks of blue candlelight that rushed past them. They rolled down the incline, feeling it gradually becoming less steep, and finally leveling out. They lay at the bottom of the incline, panting and holding each other, until they grew aware of the half-liquid surrounding them. Slowly, they stood up, the light-made-liquid curling into springs around them. Ron furrowed his eyebrows; she reached out and pulled at one of the springs. It came loose from the mass at her touch and began bouncing around them, leaving streaks of what appeared to be a larger picture. His eyes widened in astonishment as the picture was completed - no, it was impossible… could it be…? Could he be so incredibly lucky for this to be true? He shook his head and glanced at her, only to find her watching him with a small smile playing about her lips. She nodded to him and took his hand once more and, laughing, dragged him through the image.

They were standing in the circular room once more, all doors marked but one. She released his hand and dashed through it; he took up the chase again. Moments later, a chill swept through him; he knew this room, and feared it. The dais in the center of the room, the curtain fluttering upon it in an imitation of innocence… both led only to terrible thoughts, and it was down to these things she hurried, glancing back at him playfully. He dashed after her, not truly understanding what he was doing. She hopped up on the dais; his mouth went dry. His mind went blank, save for a single thought: He did not want her to go anywhere near that curtain. Indeed, he felt as if his life would end if she were to pass through it. He dashed after her, heaving himself up onto the dais, reaching for her hand, calling to her. She turned around to smile at him and her foot slipped on the edge of the curtain, sending her tumbling backwards through it. He stared blankly at the space where she had been before letting out a terrible scream.

"-on. Ron, wake up."

"No… no," he moaned, reaching out to where she had been.

"Ron, wake up. You're having a nightmare. It's not real."

_That voice,_ Ron thought, _I know that voice… but didn't she just fall through…?_

"Ron, wake up." She was shaking him gently, leaning over him.

He sat up suddenly, nearly bumping heads with her. "H-Hermione!" he gasped, his eyes wide.

"Another nightmare?" Hermione asked, sitting down next to him and wrapping her arms around him.

"Yeah…" Ron muttered, hugging her back. "I'd thought they'd stopped."

"I know, love, I know," Hermione murmured sympathetically. "What was this one about?"

Ron shook his head. "It was really strange… I was chasing you through the Department of Mysteries - you know, time, knowledge, space, prophecy - and all sorts of crazy things happened." He shut his eyes, attempting to remember what exactly had occurred. "You went in this big bell jar and went backwards, then forwards, then back to normal again… and then your thoughts wrapped around me like a tornado… and we were on top of the world, then we were chased by all the prophecy people - this one bloke was all upset because we weren't listening to him. And then…"

"Yes?" Hermione prompted, pushing her hand into his hair.

"Well, then we were back in the circular room, and you found the locked door and put your back to it. We were about to kiss - come to think of it, we were younger in my dream, maybe fourth or fifth year - when the door vanished behind you and we rolled down this slope. Then all these springs of half-liquid were around us, and you pulled on one. It made a picture, and we ran through it… into the death room." Here he paused, swallowing. "I was chasing you again, and you… slipped." He looked down, away from her.

"I'm fine, though," Hermione soothed. "I'm right here."

"I know," Ron muttered, gripping her tightly. "I know."

A few minutes and one much calmer Ron later, Hermione asked, "What was the picture, by the way?"

"What?" Ron asked, before realizing what she was referring to. "Oh - er… I saw the two of us… with a baby."

Hermione suddenly beamed. "That's what I was coming in here to tell you, Ron."

Ron blinked at this simultaneously long-awaited and unexpected news. "What? Y-You mean… you're -!"

Hermione nodded excitedly. "I went to St. Mungo's yesterday. They just sent the positive test results by owl."

Ron gaped at her and put one of his hands on her stomach. "You're serious? We're going to be parents?"

"That generally is what follows pregnancy," Hermione laughed, still smiling hugely. "In about eight and a half months, we're going to have a baby."

After a rather long and breathless back and forth in the same vein and a rather lot of kissing, Ron asked, "Are we going to keep it a secret, like our wedding, or are we going to tell everyone right away?"

"As much fun as it would be to surprise everyone again," Hermione giggled, kissing the tip of his nose, "I'd rather tell everyone this time - in person. I want to see their expressions."

"Sounds good, 'Mione," Ron grinned. "The only question is, who do we tell first?"

"Well, as we're supposed to be at my parents' house in an hour and a half, why don't we tell them then?" Hermione suggested, standing up.

"An hour and a half?" Ron asked, confused. "I thought you said we were going to see them at two."

"It's half-past noon, Ron," Hermione said, pointing at their alarm clock. "You seemed comfortable, so I let you sleep. Besides, I wasn't feeling up for breakfast."

"Sorry," Ron said sheepishly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It comes with the territory. It'll subside in a few months."

Ron stood up and walked over to where she was standing; he wrapped his arms around her. "Still," he whispered, "I wish that it didn't have to be so tough on you."

"Thanks," she whispered in reply, planting a kiss on his jaw line, "but you should really go shower. You know that Mum and Dad like us to be a little early."

"If I must," Ron sighed dramatically, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Want to come with me?"

"I've already showered, sorry," Hermione smiled, giving him a light push. "Now shoo. We're on a schedule."

"Yes, ma'am," Ron snickered, trooping off to their bathroom, "but tomorrow we shower together."

Hermione winked at him as she began wrestling with her hair. "I look forward to it."

Ron, smiling, shut the bathroom door, marveling at his incredible luck. Not only had they survived the war, but they had survived it together, and come out stronger for it. He'd gotten married to the girl - woman, now - he'd known for over half his life, and loved for nearly as long. Now, they were expecting a baby - their baby. Beaming, Ron thought, _My l__ife can't get much better than this._

Luckily for him, life was out to prove him wrong.

**Claraowl: **

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**Ahem. Anyway, I hope that you enjoyed this. ^^ I had a lot of fun with this idea, and I hope that it translated into the words. Please let me know if you liked it by dropping a review in that ever-charming little review box. :D **

**Have a magical day and/or night!**


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